Wrath
by Jefardi
Summary: What would it take to make Pyrrha Nikos finally snap and just how far would that rage take her? [Cover art credit goes to Jo3mm], [Editor/BETA: Super Saiyan Cyndaquil]
1. Prologue

**Rage** :

Sing, Goddess, of Pyrrha's rage,  
Black and murderous, that cost the many  
Incalculable pain, pitched countless souls  
Of Heroes into the Void's dark,  
And left their bodies to rot as feasts  
For Beowolves and Nevermores, as Oum's will was done.

* * *

Hatred.

That one word was the only way to describe how Pyrrha Nikos felt.

Boiling pit of unmitigated rage at something. Forcing a constant snarl. The want to cause destruction. The desire to see someone bleed. The need to see it die in the slowest manner one could imagine. That was hatred in its purest form.

Pyrrha could feel the sensation devour her whole, the nature of hatred being all consuming. The champion could feel it seeping into every crevice of her being, like a red veil had dropped in front of her. Hatred added kindling to her rage, and that rage fueled her wrath.

While others had left her, had written her off as a lost cause, the hatred never left… never abandoned her like her friends… her teammates. It was her one and only ally in her quest. It was from that feeling, Pyrrha drew strength, the place where she found solace. It was the one thing providing her motivation to continue her fight… to bring revenge on those who had caused her such… pain.

It was why, as the fireballs passed her, –the searing heat boiling metal as they were flung about in every direction- Pyrrha didn't stop. Her hatred-fueled rage was why the blood splattered on her face didn't faze Pyrrha anymore, its putrid, gagging smell was odorless. Even after her aura should have gone, she still had plenty to spare, more than enough to continue her rampaging bloodbath.

"My, my Miss Nikos." The lilting voice sang out amongst the scorching fire bolts, audible even over the walls of approaching fire, the flame's crackling drowning out all but _that_ voice. "It would seem you might be the Invincible Girl no longer."

That mocking voice made Pyrrha growl, the very fact its source was still alive made her hurt. The boiling rage in her grew, its fires being stoked.

 _I must make her suffer._

There was no hesitation in that thought, no want to work things out, of making sure justice was served. That Pyrrha was long past. That Pyrrha had died a long time ago.

Simply put, this was revenge.

Hatred may have reduced the once great champion to a feral beast, but she was still the 'Invincible Girl'. Pyrrha Nikos did not lose.

At one point of her life, Pyrrha would have been concerned about over draining her aura as she ripped the walls out of the ground, the structure groaning under the strain. Pyrrha might have once been concerned about injuring a civilian, as she sent clouds of metal debris rocketing towards her opponent, the metal clattering before being disintegrated in the inferno separating the two. Once, as laughable as it may be, Pyrrha might have been concerned about her opponent surviving their encounter.

Pyrrha was not pulling her punches as she ripped the floor of the building up, the creaking metal splintering after a point, before encompassing the raging ball of flame approaching her, the glowing eyes never straying from her. The woman lifted a hand, a great gout of fire leaping from her palm and smashing into the airborne floor.

There was no contest as the fire obliterated all it touched.

 _I need more power._

Hatred gave her just what she wanted as she drew deeper from it, her aura reserve skyrocketing.

Pyrrha's hand swept towards a column before pulling back. A steel support beam ripped from its place, the high pitch whine of it was brief, before it burst into thousands upon thousands of fragments. The cloud of iron filings swept around the approaching inferno.

The open hand clenched into a fist.

Innumerable shards accelerated, the cloud descending at a speed that only a coil gun could provide. Thousands upon thousands of sonic booms shaking the structure as they rocketed towards the source of her hatred.

The fire was too clever, too tricky for that; a light so bright that it dwarfed the sun shone. All that was left of the filings was ash.

 _I need more power!_

Pyrrha pulled deeper on her only ally.

Fire jetted out of the inferno, fire hot enough to melt any person to ash by proximity alone. A visible magnetic field greeted it in a brilliant explosion, the force of the explosion gouging the ground. More jets of flame spiraled out of the approaching wall of fire. All Pyrrha could see was fire as her shield was battered, the sheer velocity of the fiery streaks forcing her back. Back far enough that she was pushed out of the building, the shattered moon coming into view.

The magnetic field started to falter under the assault, the stress of over drawing on her aura starting to hit Pyrrha _. I… I need to keep fighting!_ It was hard to do that when it was a herculean effort to even move your arm, to keep your eyes open, to keep the encroaching fire from consuming you.

"Tut, tut." It was _her_ again, the mocking voice accompanied by the clicking of glass heels. "I should have done this from the start… it would have saved so much time." The voice kept Pyrrha conscious, but by a thread. "Who knew killing an insignificant speck like him would have cost me so many resources."

 _I NEED MORE POWER!_

Hatred turned into pure, unbridled, uncontrollable rage.

It was like a pressure valve opened up as Pyrrha let herself get swallowed by it; she let the hatred-fueled rage permeate her every atom.

A new sound entered the fray, a sound so loud the crackling of the fire was finally drowned out in the din of it. Buildings cracked into myriads of bits, as the warehouse district was consumed in a maelstrom of power. Structures creaked and groaned as they were pulled out of their foundation and flung. Anything Pyrrha could grab onto was sent at the glowing eyes.

"WHY WON'T YOU DIE?!" Pyrrha could barely believe the screaming voice belonged to her as great warehouses crashed into her source of hatred. "DIE!"

The glowing eyes finally faltered, the inferno finally contracting at the attack. The scale of it was beyond what the fire could handle.

What had been a battle of two elements, fire and metal, the clash finally reached the break-point for one of the two. Fire was being overpowered. The snarl changed at the sound, forming a smile, a nasty, sickening, twisted smile.

Hatred was a wonderful tool of the damned.

Begin, Muse, with the clash between  
Cinder – the fiery destroyer - and godlike Pyrrha…

* * *

BETA & Editor: Super Saiyan Cyndaquil

* * *

AU: Warning for all readers, this is not going to be a light-hearted story, this is no fairytale with a happy ending. Just to make this even clearer, this is a tragedy. People will die. I will try and keep it appropriate for a T rating, but if I can't, I'll change it. Just be aware of that.

So the basics of this story, is that this is the descent of Pyrrha into unrelenting, all destroying rage. I should probably explain.

I'm something of a historian, and when I started to watch RWBY I was rereading the Iliad for a number that is quite high. My first reaction upon seeing it and realizing Achilles = Pyrrha was wondering where exactly the CEASELESS RAGE that is perhaps Achilles' defining character trait was in her.

I decided to rectify that. Hence, we end up with this.

So my biggest influence for this story (outside of RWBY) is the Iliad, a story literally dedicated to Achilles' wrath. Some select parts will be used as a framing mechanism throughout the story as you can see.

Now on to the release schedule; this is a shorter story than my others and will have a definitive end that I can reach rather soon, comparatively. I'm still debating on packaging it with my monthly Acceptance updates. To be sure, this story will have a very loose schedule.

I try and not ask for reviews; putting peer-pressure on you guys is unfair, but it's been a long time since I wrote combat and this story is quite different from my usual style… so what do you think?

As always, thanks for reading and have a great day! :D

P.S. New _Dilation_ and _Spoon Equality_ chapters today. _Acceptance_ got moved to next Friday. Will explain more in _Dilation_ and _Spoon Equality'_ s author's notes or check my profile page!

P.S.S. A special thanks to Super Saiyan Cyndaquil for the help, I'm glad to have his input. Also a special thanks to Jo3mm, I finally got to use his art!


	2. Book I

**Book I**

* * *

 **Rage** :

Sing, Goddess, of Pyrrha's rage,  
Black and murderous, that cost the many  
Incalculable pain, pitched countless souls  
Of Heroes into the Void's dark,  
And left their bodies to rot as feasts  
For Beowolves and Nevermores, as God's will was done.

* * *

"I love you."

Three simple words registered in Pyrrha's head as a massive white aura shield expanded over them, engulfing the stadium. It was a phenomenon that Pyrrha knew well. After all, it was Jaune's semblance.

It had taken semesters, but Jaune could finally do it, creating an impregnable shield with his aura, and expanding it not just over himself, but over others. Yet he'd never tried it on a large area before, such as a floating stadium filled with thousands.

As the massive projectile barreled down onto the floating target, the Atlas military's guns uselessly bounced off it. The massive amounts of dust huntresses and hunters were throwing up useless. The shield held.

When the mass finally reached the Amity stadium, the airborne colosseum shook. It groaned under the weight as a force too large to even imagine battered itself onto the aura projection, blotting out the sun for all those under it.

Yet the shield held.

Even as cracks formed in the white aura, and the seconds ticked by, it held.

Then the shadow shattered.

The sound was indescribable, simply calling it a boom didn't fit in Pyrrha's mind. That would be implying she understood what she had just heard. The sound created a physical wave so clear she could see it as it exploded outwards.

It was deafening, the concussive force of it shredding the surrounding area, the coastline below looked as if it had been through a cheese grater. Even those within the shield were knocked off their feet as the structure shock, Pyrrha impacting a wall hard enough to dent it, losing consciousness.

Slowly, the inky blackness receded as pain filled her being. Ignoring the throbbing pain, as her aura slowly knitted and healed her, Pyrrha forced open her eyes. Where there had been darkness against light, now there was only light, the shield slowly receding in the absence of a threat.

"Did we survive?"

The aching pain she felt led Pyrrha to the conclusion that she was most definitely alive.

"We… we survived."

Relief flooded through her, andshe couldn't help but start laughing as Pyrrha slowly pushed herself up. People around her were slowly getting to their feet shakily, the looks of wonder shared on their faces.

The shield had held and they were safe. Jaune, the blond who didn't even know how to hold a sword a year ago, had saved everyone. Despite what had happened, Pyrrha felt a bright smile start to creep onto her face; _Jaune is going to be the hero he always dreamed of_. All of his hard work, his dedication, finally paid off.

"He's going to be a hero." Despite all that had happened, there was still a positive silver lining to it. "Jaune is going to be a hero." Pyrrha couldn't stop repeating it. "He is goi-"

 _ **BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP**_

Of all the places that Pyrrha expected to hear a klaxon going off, it wasn't from her scroll. Not from the stadium itself, or the city below, or any of the number of Atlas military devices lying around… no, the blaring noise was coming from her scroll. Shakily opening it up, the teen looked at the alert. "Oh no." Pyrrha felt the air leave her lungs, the device clattering to the ground as she took off in a mad dash. "No no no no no!"

"JAUNE?! JAUNE WHERE ARE YOU?!" In the chaos of the impact, everyone had been tossed this way and that. Pyrrha's doubles' partner, Nora, was nowhere to be found, eventhough they had been standing next to each other moments ago. _But Nora is alright!_ Nora's aura bar on the scroll had clearly shown she had enough left, unlike Jaune.

Jaune's aura was in the negatives.

Pyrrha had seen someone with a flat zero before, that was common enough in practice matches, even with fifteen percent left as a cut off, sometimes a combatant would go overboard or there was an accident, such as the match before hers' with team RWBY. But negatives… Pyrrha had never even heard of someone going into the negatives before. It was with that lack of information that her thoughts fed on.

 _How is that even possible?! Maybe his scroll broke, unless it's something else._ That was the bit that Pyrrha's mind latched on to. _Why did it say negative?_ Pyrrha's mind instantly went to all the ways he could be bleeding out in the rumble _. I need to find him!_

Going around the bend, Pyrrha found what she was seeking; Jaune.

The blonde was covered in debris, but looked otherwise fine. Besides the fact that he was pinned to the ground by a slab of concrete roughly the size of a car, but alive nonetheless. Pyrrha's relief was cut short by the unmistakable sound of metal groaning and giving as huge chunks of the stadium's roof started to fall.

Right towards Jaune.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha bolted frantically towards him but she already knew that she would never reach him in time. That only left her second option; polarity.

Pyrrha didn't care if she was going to burn through what remained of her aura as she ripped anything she could manipulate off the ground and hurled it towards the falling rubble. The redhead's aura was drained in seconds as literal tons of debris were hurled up in a protective shield around Jaune moments before the falling concrete impacted.

The sound was deafening. Not as bad as the shadow's impact, but loud as concrete pelted onto metal, creating a horrific racket and kicking up a small dust storm. When Pyrrha finally reached him, the dust cloud had settled, revealing a heart wrenching sight.

Jaune was no longer pinned by the concrete slab, somehow it had been moved in the confusion. He just had an eight foot long piece of debris jammed through his chest. Pyrrha knew enough as the blood pooled out from under him even if she denied it.

Jaune was going to die.

" **NO!** " Pyrrha was on her knees cradling him as he coughed up blood. She didn't have any aura to transfer to him, her scroll had been left lying who knows where. In short, Pyrrha was helpless as Jaune started to bleed out.

Pyrrha's vision blurred as she tried in vain to stop the bleeding, wrapping her sash around the gaping wound. "Jaune, wake up! Please wake up!"

Blue eyes opened with languish. "P-Pyrrha…?" The voice that had brought so much happiness to Pyrrha's life spoke, only to start coughing up blood.

"Jaune! Just stay with me Jaune, and everything will be fine." Pyrrha's voice cracked when the blood started to ooze through the sash. "It'll be okay."

"I…I thought you loved me?"

Pyrrha only noticed the fear, the complete and utter terror that had entered his eyes as they focused on her, like a kicked puppy not knowing what had happened after it ran into a screen door. Pyrrha couldn't stop the sobs. "Of-f-f course I l-l-love you Jaune, I will love you forever, ju-just ha-ang on and it'll be okay… Jaune?"

The blonde boy's limbs had stopped shaking as Pyrrha shook him slightly. "Snap out of it Jaune! …Jaune?"

Blue eyes were frozen with terror as the light slowly dwindled from there.

Jaune Arc was dead.

The sound of Pyrrha's grief stung in the air.

* * *

"What do you think it's like?"

Pyrrha slowly moved, lethargy making her want to stay put, her head cradled in Jaune's lap. "What do I think what's like?"

Blue eyes dragged themselves from the swirling clouds to look down at curious emerald ones. "To be a cloud?"

The teen couldn't help but giggle at her partner's question. "I don't think you can be a cloud Jaune." Her arms wrapped around his torso, locking her against him. "You'd float away then."

"You won't let me be a cloud then?" The question prompted Pyrrha to shake her head as an all too familiar cocky smile graced Jaune's face. "What if my dream is to be a cloud?"

"You don't get that dream." Pyrrha pouted while slowly shifting around, pulling the blond teen to the grass covered ground. "Plus, I thought your dream was to become a hero…"

Jaune limply let himself get pulled to the ground as Pyrrha rested her head on his chest. "Well… uh, clouds still have dreams!" The boy nodded to himself. "I could be… a heroic cloud."

Pyrrha didn't respond, letting the comment slip away as the two cuddled in the sunlight. It was a type of quiet they hadn't experienced in a while, the hectic schedule of the tournament cutting deeply into their alone time. Into the small bubble of tranquility that the two teens had found in each other. _I just wish the tournament would end already… then I could just be… Pyrrha again_. It was a selfish thought to be sure, but it was something that Pyrrha craved; the time when it was just her and her friends… her teammates… Jaune.

A huge goofy smile tugged at the corners of Pyrrha's mouth as she snuggled her partner, a hand lightly running through her hair. "Hellllllloooooo?" Pyrrha could hear the teasing tone in the voice. "Anyone home?"

"Perhaps…" Pyrrha craned her neck to look at her scraggly blond boyfriend. "But all I see is a heroic cloud floating away."

"I'm not a cloud yet!" Jaune retorted. "Maybe someday I'll be up there..." Pyrrha felt the weight leave her hair and saw Jaune point up at the swirling clouds. "But first I need to be a hero."

"You're already a hero to me." The words left Pyrrha's mouth without a second thought. "You've proven yourself to everyone."

Pyrrha could hear the teen chuckle. "Who would have ever thought that a guy like me would have qualified for the Vytal tournament?"

"I did!" The redhead admonished him with a pout. "You've always been a hero to me… you're my hero."

Their conversation died out as the warm sunlight vanished as Amity colosseum loomed over head.

 _At least the tournament is nearly over._

* * *

All this time Pyrrha, daughter of Nikos in the line of Gods,  
Nursed her anger, the great runner idle by her fleet's fast hulls.  
She was not to be seen in council, that arena for glory,  
Nor in combat. She sat tight in camp consumed with grief,  
Her great heart yearning for the battle cry and war.  
Twelve days went by.

* * *

The funeral had been a grand affair.

The hero, no, savior of the Vytal festival, the one who had saved not only the lives of nearly every huntress and huntsmen in the world, but the lives of Vale itself, had every honour possible awarded. A massive tomb to house the hero who had given up his life to save everyone else was beyond compare. Already there was a call to rename the festival in his honour.

Jaune Arc was a hero, praised for all time for his martyrdom, for saving the very institution that he had cheated his way into.

His dream had become reality.

 _My reality is a nightmare._

If someone had asked what loss felt like, Pyrrha could only describe it as losing everything, yet nothing.

To the deepest reaches of her core, she felt empty, a void had started that she knew was never going to be filled, that her existence was incomplete. Yet at the same time, everything felt normal; physically she was fine. Cuts, scrapes, bruises… those all healed relatively quickly. Having lost the meaning to her life, Pyrrha thought she'd feel sick to her stomach, like she was deathly ill, but that wasn't the case.

Pyrrha felt dead inside. _It couldn't be real, there was no way Jaune was just… gone. It was impossible! You can't just… die!_ Her senses felt dulled, food held no real taste, colours were no longer vibrant. Sleep was a process that happened automatically. Reality only started to set in during the funeral, as Jaune saw the open sky for the final time.

It had dawned on her that this truly was the end, Pyrrha felt her insides go cold, as it settled into her mind; Jaune was truly dead.

Then Pyrrha wished she still felt dead inside.

Tears were the least of her concerns as the void suddenly filled partially with pain. Pain that came from reality finally slamming into her like a crashing bullhead. Jaune was gone. He wasn't going to come back. Where she had once felt robotic, now she felt everything. Yet the emptiness was still not filled, ever present in the depths of her chest.

Sleep was an elusive concept to her; every time her eyes closed, he was there, limp in her arms, never to move again. Food tasted of ash, calling it a monochrome experience was insulting as there was only a singular colour to it. Her friends, her teammates had tried to talk to her, to console her in some small measure to no avail. Their words had bounced off her as she stayed huddled in a ball.

Pyrrha's body ached as she laid in her bed, silent sobs wracking it, the tears long having dried up. Nora and Ren had tried to stay with her, they really had. The two of them were the only reason that Pyrrha had eaten anything. Yet they were no closer to breaching her shell than anyone else.

So she stayed in a little ball on her bed, as days turned into a full week.

Pyrrha did have a couple mementos left of him. For one, the oversized hoodie of his that now only smelled faintly of him. That faint smell was an ever-present reminder of _him,_ its faded orange insides wrapped around her. The other was even more precious: Crocea Mors.

At the funeral, Pyrrha had tried to give it back to his parents, but they had refused – it was an Arc family heirloom after all.

'He would have wanted you to have it.'

Those words were burned into her brain, the clearest moment she had from that day. It was why she had Crocea Mors currently clutched against her chest.

 _Time doesn't heal anything_ , Pyrrha couldn't help but muse as she laid on her bed, not quite knowing what to do. The feelings of pain and emptiness, of loneliness was still as vivid as they were when they started. There was a new thought that had entered Pyrrha's head, however; _what do I do now?_

Pyrrha hadn't left the dorm room in days. Hell, she hadn't moved much besides relieving herself in the bathroom since the funeral. On an objective level, she knew why.

There was a simple reason; Pyrrha lacked motivation.

She didn't have any motivation to move as much as a millimeter, and why should she? Jaune was… was… he was gone. It made life seem rather meaningless. The reason she felt like a human being instead of an idealized form of victory was now dead. Gone. He wasn't going to return. A scraggly blond face wasn't going to poke out from behind the doorframe anymore, with tickets to a cheesy action movie.

Motivation was what had been driving Pyrrha through life, the want to fulfill her destiny, the want to be normal… to be happy with Jaune. Except, Jaune was now dead, what was she supposed to do now?

 _So what now?_

Idly, Pyrrha's mind went back to what Nora and Ren had been trying to do; to get her up and out of the room. It wasn't that Pyrrha didn't want to leave the dorm room so much as she saw no point in leaving it. The outside world didn't even seem to have colour anymore as Pyrrha stared through the window. _What's the point, even it's… it's…_

Standing outside in the court yard in broad daylight, the familiar messy blob of blonde hair ever recognizable to Pyrrha, was a figure she thought she'd never see again.

 _Jaune?_ Suddenly colour jumped back into Pyrrha's sight, a surge of emotions rushed through her as she shakily got to her feet and bounded to the door, Crocea Mors still clutched against her chest. She barely noticed the surprised looks of fellow students as she whipped past them, the pointed glances that were shared, and the hushed whispers. They didn't matter, all that _did_ matter was that Jaune was alive!

Yet the sight that greeted her once she was out in the courtyard wasn't the one she expected. It wasn't Jaune who greeted her, but a platoon of Atlas military. Before Pyrrha could so much as blink, an atlesian paladin landed between her and the school as another platoon emerged from the doorway she'd just gone through. All with their guns pointed at Pyrrha.

Most alarming perhaps was the tall white haired woman who was striding towards her as the Atlas military surrounded her, speech crisp and commanding.

"Miss Nikos, you are under arrest for the murder of Jaune Arc."

* * *

BETA & Editor: Super Saiyan Cyndaquil

Editor: MartunaMajor

* * *

AU: Finally this comes out.

I've been working off and on for this chapter since episode two of volume three and I can finally publish it. FINALLY. The quality of this went all over the place to be honest because it's been written over the course of months.

This at least gave me a way to channel some of my feelings after the last episode. Probably why progress picked up. Plus I said I'd wait until the volume ended before continuing. Which I have.

I can only give my deepest heartfelt thanks for your kind, kind words. Seriously thank you. I will give a lot longer response in a Spoon Equality chapter later because this isn't the place for that kind of discussion. Please bear with me everyone. In short, I'm doing better but the longer analysis of what's going on with me will be saved for Spoon Equality chapter whenever it gets put out.

Also I'm sorry for not responding reviews recently or even for Wrath's last chapter. Life got insanely busy during December and during January I was very sick. February was emotions getting screwed with.

As always, thank you for reading and have a great day everyone!


	3. Book II

**Book II**

* * *

 **Rage** :

Sing, Goddess, of Pyrrha's rage,  
Black and murderous, that cost the many  
Incalculable pain, pitched countless souls  
Of Heroes into the Void's dark,  
And left their bodies to rot as feasts  
For Beowolves and Nevermores, as God's will was done.

* * *

"Miss Nikos, you are under arrest for the murder of Jaune Arc."

"Excuse me?" Those words bounced off Pyrrha as she stared wide-eyed at the tall woman.

Said woman let out a slight sigh of annoyance before pulling out a tablet of some nature and pressing a few buttons on the screen. Immediately, a holographic projection was displayed in front of Pyrrha.

It took her a few moments to recognize exactly what she was seeing, but when she did it made her stomach curdle. The video feed was that of the Amity colosseum, moments after the stadium had been rocked by the explosion. A few keystrokes later and the feed was zoomed on _him_. Just looking at him made Pyrrha desperately wish that she'd stayed in bed.

Except, it didn't look like what Pyrrha remembered at all. Jaune wasn't pinned by the concrete slab, but was leaning heavily against a wall. Completely untouched. "B-But that's _not_ right!" Pyrrha protested as her eyes darted between the projection and the woman, earning a disapproving glare from the officer as the projection was paused.

"Really? I can pull up a different angle from multiple cameras if you wish... except that's not why _we_ are here." The feed was un-paused as Pyrrha watched. It wasn't a change in the video, but a sound. The sound that was familiar to her, even if it wasn't from the usual perspective.

Heels clicking to her own natural gait. Suddenly, Pyrrha knew exactly what this video was about, clutching Crocea Mors even tighter to her chest as she found it harder and harder to breathe.

The scene played out in a twisted version. When she finally saw herself on screen yell Jaune's name, there was no falling debris. Nothing. Only Jaune was standing exactly where Pyrrha had placed a protective shield. "No no no no no!" Emerald eyes squeezed shut as her body felt numb. _This isn't real, this can't be real!_ When Pyrrha finally dared a peek, she saw something that burned into her mind, an image that would haunt her soul for the rest of her days.

One of the pieces of debris Pyrrha had used her semblance on was now impaling Jaune.

"No." It was a weak murmur as the tall teen's knees gave out as she fell limply the courtyard's ground, tears she thought had finally dried starting to wet her cheeks. "I… I don't believe it. I-I know what happened, that's not… t-that's not it…"

"We don't need _you_ to believe it, Miss Nikos." The woman gave another soft sigh before continuing. "It's lucky we were able to find the footage at all; if they hadn't made the discovery in the ruins of the stadium, we would never have believed the witnesses that had been coming forth." She paused, the sounds of Pyrrha's sobs filling the silence. "Take her."

Yet the command never made it to Pyrrha's brain, her thoughts a cacophony of panic and anguish. Try as she might to un-see what had happened that day, every second of it had been burned into her brain. Every. Single. Second. _That wasn't what happened! I didn't kill him! He was trapped, a-and I was going to save him! That has to be fake, it has to!_

Pyrrha could dimly hear the footsteps get closer and closer to her as the heavy clanking of atlesian knights closed in around her. "Specialist Schnee, the suspect is armed, moving to disarm."

 _But Milo and Akoúo are back in the room, I-_ The moment the atlesian knight touched Crocea Mors it clicked in Pyrrha's head. They were going to take Crocea Mors away from Pyrrha.

They were going to take away one of the few things left Jaune had left her, muscle memory started to kick in out of desperation.

They were taking him away from her.

" **NO** **!"**

Muscles moved on instinct as the faintly familiar but foreign weight of the sword slid into her hand before the android's arm clanked against the ground. "You can't take him from me!"

"Suspect is hostile, open fire!"

They never stood a chance.

Crocea Mors' pale white blade swung in a blinding whirlwind, slicing through an Atlesian Knight like a hot knife through butter. Three of them were bisected before the rest could even pull the trigger.

 _This isn't real._ That was the only conclusion that Pyrrha could draw as she felt herself robotically take apart the androids in front of her. _I didn't kill Jaune, and I'm not fighting the Atlesian military_. Yet as a bullet bounced off her aura - aura only mitigated damaged - Pyrrha could definitely feel the pain. This was not a dream.

The racket from dozens of automatic guns suddenly unloading whole clips at the whirling Mistralian was deafening. Muzzle flashes lit up the courtyard brighter than mid-summer fireworks as the onslaught was sustained for nearly a full minute.

To any outside onlooker, instead of the more likely sight of a redhead riddled with so many holes that she'd resemble Swiss cheese more than a human, there was a giant whirlwind of metal in her stead. A cylinder that exploded outwards as the bullets reversed their velocity and shot through their owners, spreading debris over the courtyard.

More androids and a paladin replaced the ranks of their fallen brethren as another tremendous din started up. This one of metal against metal started as half of the new androids in front of her fell apart, the screws and parts that held them apart ripping off before being pelted towards the remainder, including the paladin.

In a matter of moments, the platoon was reduced to twitching limbs and exposed circuit boards.

Perhaps the more surprising thing for Pyrrha was the fact that she didn't feel tired at all. In fact, she felt like she'd barely tapped into her aura reserves when a display like that should have made her feel utterly exhausted.

"I suppose that counts as competent these days." The white haired woman sighed as she cast a disappointing gaze on the broken remains of her forces before unsheathing an ornate saber. "You can still surrender, Miss Nikos. Lower your weapons, and I'll make sure you'll at least make it to trial. You have that on my honour as a Schnee."

"I... I didn't kill Jaune!" Pyrrha was filled with terror as fear shot through her; both for her actions and at the accusation, causing Pyrrha to slowly shake her head as her grip tightened on Crocea Mors. "I'm not giving you _his_ weapon!"

"Fine." One moment the white haired woman was twenty feet away, the next, her weapon was whistling through the air, inches away from Pyrrha's face. "I'll take it from you."

Crocea Mors barely blocked the thin blade from a strike that would have taken out Pyrrha's eye as she started to backpedal. The Schnee followed hot on her heels, a horizontal slash slamming into Pyrrha's shield, the redhead's back step turning into a stumble.

"I'll only ask one more time. Surrender. Now." Pyrrha slowly pulled herself to her feet, the shield angled in front of her still. An expression of annoyance crossed Schnee's face. "So be it."

The white haired woman adopted a two handed stance only to pull a second, smaller saber out of the first.

Then she lunged.

It became immediately clear that Schnee had been holding back as the tip of her sword hit the shield head on… and pushed Pyrrha back.

What also was becoming clear as the offhand saber slammed into the shield was that this was a very different fighting style then what Pyrrha was used to. The one she had to fight with that is. The shield was nowhere near as easy to throw like a discus, such as she normally could with Akoúo. Nor was the sword anywhere near as light and as versatile as Milo.

Which was very bad considering that the white haired woman was just raining blow after blow with her dual sabers on the shield. All Pyrrha could do was shoulder the blows and wait for an opportunity to stab at her from behind the protective wall.

 _I… I just need to survive and this can all be sorted out._ Fatigue from aura use started to hit; surprising considering how only now Pyrrha was starting to feel the strain as her thoughts frantically tried to sort themselves. Perhaps it was the sustained combat or just the overall stress from being accused of murdering her beloved, but the redhead's fear started to fade as old combat instincts took over.

 _Now!_ Dragging the heavy sword in an upward arc while altering the woman's sword arc, Pyrrha finally struck back. However, the Schnee formed a crisscross with her dual weapons, taking the brunt of the attack easily – using it to sail through the air onto a pillar, where a white rune of some kind started to glo-

 _Is she Weiss' family member?_ While it was true that Pyrrha was in no proper state of mind all things considering, it'd completely gone by her that the person who the Atlesian knights had called 'Specialist Schnee' looked a lot like Weiss until the telltale white glyph appeared under her. In fact, now that Pyrrha thought about it, the person across from her was probably Weiss' older sister, Winter. Ultimately it mattered very little, considering the circumstances.

Pyrrha sprinted forward in a charge before leaping, closing the gap between them. It was the only way to finally get out of playing defense. Feinting with the sword, the redhead slammed the shield into Winter's stomach, cerulean eyes widening in shock as she was flung off the high ground.

This time, the woman rebounded off the ground before Pyrrha could reach her, meeting the redhead's charge with one of her own. Pyrrha angled the sword to meet the first strike. Then the shield to meet the second. Already swinging the sword in a third strike. Dual diagonal sweeps met the strong horizontal slash and sparks went flying. The strength of the blows forced both of them back for a beat.

With a flick of her hand, glyphs formed around Pyrrha in a large circle. The next moment, Pyrrha's opponent was gone.

Instinctively holding up her shield, Pyrrha felt a pair of strikes rip at her from behind. Before she could even fully turn around, a flash of white went by and the air left her lungs as another pair of slashes slammed into her chest. Another painfully smacked into her left leg as she fell to one knee.

A glint caught her eye, and she spun the shield to her front. This time the pair of strikes rang out against the shield. Pivoting to where the white flash had gone, she swung quick and horizontal just in time to stop the blur from running her through; the twin sabers being knocked away by Crocea Mors.

"Your reaction time is impressive." Winter remarked as Pyrrha caught her breath. "But it won't save you from what you deserve."

"I DIDN'T KILL JAUNE!" Pyrrha screamed as she ran full tilt at the woman, anger welling up in her. _I tried to save him!_

Crocea Mors battered the sabers away like they were made out of paper before the redhead shoulder-checked Schnee into a pillar.

If Pyrrha's speed had been a hair faster, then the white haired woman would have caught the shield in the face as it slammed into the wall, creating a small crater instead of just a grazing cut. Slamming the sword into the ground where the Specialist had rolled off to, another crater appeared as she jumped out of the way.

The red veil of anger covered her vision as Pyrrha moved entirely on muscle memory. It was with little surprise that the woman standing before her could only dodge and parry the tournament winner as Pyrrha pushed her back. And back.

The white haired woman had no chance to even go on the offensive. Shield and sword hammered at her. Every time there _was_ an opening, Pyrrha merely bent the saber away from her, completely ignoring defense. In effect, Pyrrha was untouchable.

At least she was. Pyrrha's sword stopped in midair, rebounding off a glyph and earning the redhead a steel toed kick to the chin. While Pyrrha reeled back from the force and pain of the hit, Winter took the chance to backpedal and summon another glyph.

Instead of another lunge, or some sort of speed increase, a massive glyph appeared beneath her, rapidly spinning faster and faster…

…and a small horde of ghostly beowolves appeared.

Pyrrha's stride didn't change as she tore into them, the snarl on her face only deepening with each summoned creature's death.

The best comparison to any onlooker was that of a meat grinder, where the pale white whirl of Crocea Mors swept away anything that got within two feet of Pyrrha. The charge forward slowed from a break neck speed, to a run, to a walk, before she stopped altogether. As the seconds ticked on, Pyrrha found herself being pushed back a step. And then another.

Individually, each one of the apparitions by themselves barely garnered a second glance, yet in greater numbers…

Pyrrha was losing ground.

In the corners of her eyes, she could see the rapidly growing number of summoned Grimm start to encircle her. Anger gave way to fear. _I have to do something fast, or I'm going to die… this would be easier if I just had my own weapons- that's it!_

Planting a foot on an approaching Beowulf, Pyrrha jumped backwards, using it like a spring board before reaching for her scroll and typing a command in. By the time she hit the ground, Pyrrha was being swarmed from all sides again, struggling to fight off the beowolves, but that had been enough.

The whistling in the air only took but a moment before the metal box nearly slammed into Winter, forcing her to jump out of the way. Within seconds, the doors opened and the weapons inside were encased with a black glow before flying to Pyrrha's hands.

In some ways, it was a comforting presence, like two old friends – friends that were currently a blur of red and gold. While Pyrrha could hold her own with Crocea Mors, with Milo and Akoúo she was no longer holding her own. Rather, she became the 'Invincible Girl'.

Now with her own actual weapons in hand, Crocea Mors was sheathed as the flow of the fight started to reverse. Pyrrha hacked through wave after wave of summoned Grimm with a cold kind of efficiency, closing in on the summoner.

…and then the waves stopped.

Emerald eyes blinked in surprise, focusing on the Specialist's infuriating smirk. Then there was a blinding light as a bright glyph began to spin. Even as Pyrrha started to dig her heels into a run, an enormous ghostly Nevermore blinked into existence.

There was no time to do much besides dive out of the way of its mouth before one of the Nevermore's wings rammed into her gut, both violently knocking the air out of her and taking Pyrrha with it into the sky.

Pyrrha's first instinct was to grip tightly onto the apparition's wing. However, the steel boot that came slamming into her forehead had other plans. With her grip loosening, emerald eyes darted to the increasingly distant ground.

"Surrender. _Now_!" The Specialist's composure had broken, her voice screaming over the howling wind and white hair flapping violently. "Why did you kill him?! Answer me!"

The accusation numbed the pain to her hands and only served to let a single sensation rise to the top out of her jumbled emotional state. Anger. The want to hurt someone for the mere sake of it. To inflict some misery on someone else.

That's why when the boot came down again, Pyrrha's hand had already let go, the redhead going into free fall for a brief moment before jumping off Akoúo in a front flip. For the briefest of moments, Pyrrha was greeted by the shocked face of her opponent before her heeled foot caught Winter in the gut.

Yet that didn't change the fact that the white haired woman was a trained huntress, and was upon Pyrrha in barely a second. The first saber caught against Milo's edge. The offhand saber came whistling through the air before ricocheting off Pyrrha's bracer.

In one fluid motion, the redhead's unarmed hand grabbed onto Winter's left arm and pulled the Specialist towards her. Pyrrha's circlet clad forehead crashing into the woman's bare face with a mighty crack.

As Pyrrha stared, with no small amount of satisfaction at the unfocused blue steel eyes, something changed. Perhaps because of the amount of aura Winter had been using, or simply because her focus was utterly broken, the summoned Nevermore was gone…

…and gravity took hold of the two, plummeting them into downtown Vale.

* * *

Then let me die now. I was no help  
To him when he was killed out there. He died  
Far from home, and he needed me to protect him.

* * *

Pyrrha woke up.

 _It was all just a dream… it was just a dream, I'm in the dorm room, everything is fine._

Emerald eyes cracked open before being blinded. Bright city lights greeted her, illuminating the darkness of night, and clearly showing that she was lying in a filthy alleyway.

Pyrrha's first instinct was to move, to get up and out of the garbage strewn dead end, but the moment she tried to move everything started to ache. Aura exhaustion. _T-that means…_

Barely forgotten emotions came flooding back along with the memories, overwhelming her in an instant, causing her to curl up into a ball and cry. That whole fight had been very, _very_ real.

 _Why… why did they think I killed Jaune? I love him! I could… I could never have hurt him._ The mere thought that she could have done it… Worse yet, what might have just been an misunderstanding had spiraled out of proportions since she had resisted arrest AND attacked the largest military in Remnant.

Pyrrha didn't know how long she laid, crying in the trash, clutching Crocea Mors. It felt like ages to her. But in time, all tears eventually dry, and she laid unmoving on the cold, hard ground. There was nothing to do.

 _I… I can't go back._

That thought brought new tears to her eyes. _I can't go back to Ren and Nora… so what's the point?_ Pyrrha felt dead. There was nothing in her, no purpose, just nothingness in a husk. Pure apathy.

It was in this state that something she once heard floated through her head. _Apathy is death, worse than death, because at least a rotting corpse feeds the beast and insects._

To move would be at least better than death; staying curled up in this alley was going to do no one any good, especially herself. It was a herculean effort to push herself to her feet, staggering against one side of the alleyway before trudging out of it, towards the neon lights of the city.

The city lights grew brighter and more intense before she found people. People gathered around one of the huge public screens dotted across the city. Instead of the usual advertisements for some product, it was turned to the news.

"…more in on the breaking story, the White Fang have claimed responsibility for the attack on Amity stadium, much to the shock of the world. Even more, it is believed that they were the ones engaged with the Atlesian forces and were directly responsible for the appearance of the blue Nevermore."

 _Why… why would anyone want that?_ The thought of trying to claim responsibility for the calamity was mindboggling to her – it felt like her heart was breaking all over again. "The disappearance of Miss Pyrrha Nikos during the battle has also prompted a press conference from General Ironwood, who has stated that-"

The screens flickered and went to static for a moment, an unearthly feedback sound ringing through the speakers as a White Fang symbol flashed across the screen.

" **WE HAVE KILLED YOUR HERO, YOU WILL BE NEXT. EVERYONE WILL PAY FOR HUMANITY'S SINS."**

The voice was an abomination to Pyrrha's ears as an image of Jaune covered in blood was superimposed behind the symbol.

As quickly as it happened, the image broke, returning to Lisa Lavender scrambling about, reassuring viewers that it wouldn't happen again… yet that was beyond Pyrrha's focus.

These… these things had taken credit for killing Jaune, and not only that, they sounded happy about… they were bragging about killing Pyrrha's beloved. They were threatening everyone else… everyone that Jaune had died protecting.

Where there had been apathetic emptiness, something filled Pyrrha's chest, a swell of emotion. Instead of sadness, or grief, or any of the number of things that Pyrrha had felt since her partner's death, an altogether new emotion took hold of her.

It was a blinding one that made her vision narrow into a tunnel; all the confusion, the fear, the anguish were focused into a single, all consuming, monomaniacal aspect.

Rage.

A mist of black grief enveloped Pyrrha.  
She scooped up fistfuls of sunburst dust  
And poured it on her head, fouling  
Her beautiful face.

* * *

BETA & Editor: Super Saiyan Cyndaquil  
Editor: Gorsouul  
Editor: MartunaMajor

* * *

AU: That only took half a year.

I'm hoping to not take quite as long; both this chapter and the next two or so had issues with planning, which was the major reason all of this got held up for so long.

Acceptance should post shortly.

Thank you for reading, I hope everyone has a wonderful day!


End file.
